


On the ninth day of Bellarkemas... Baking xmas treats – (domestic drabble)

by perplex777



Series: Twelve Days of Christmas - Bellarke Style [9]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, Bellarke Xmas, Day 9, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2863940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perplex777/pseuds/perplex777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A string of indistinct but very forceful expletives could be heard coming from the kitchen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the ninth day of Bellarkemas... Baking xmas treats – (domestic drabble)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: My contribution for the Bellarke 12 Days of Christmas prompt from bellarke.com on tumblr. A little late... posted all at once on Boxing Day, but it was the only way I could produce something for all twelve. Mostly fluff and drabbles, with everything pretty short after Day 3. (Some a bit dull I'm afraid, but once you've filled over half the prompts it seems silly not to fill them all!)
> 
> Please BE WARNED my entries for Day 3 and Day 12 are mature (with Day 3's being particularly explicit including hints of dom/sub - nothing too heavy though). If you're seeking the smut, read Day 12 before Day 3, it's a lot shorter and more implied!
> 
> Thanks for reading!

A string of indistinct but very forceful expletives could be heard coming from the kitchen.

“Everything all right in here Princess?” Bellamy asked as he sauntered in.

He was confronted by a very grumpy Clarke who was clutching a tray and glaring at the blackened gingerbread reindeer. “They’re burnt,” she huffed.

“I can see that Princess.” He didn’t quite manage to hide the indulgent grin.

There was a clatter as she shoved the tray down. “It’s not funny!” 

The tears that had begun to well in her eyes wiped the smile off his face. Shit! How do I fix this?

He gathered her up in his arms, making soothing noises. She resisted at first, before finally relenting and letting herself mould to him. “Hey…” he rubbed slow circles on her back, “it’s alright…” he kissed the top of her head gently “they’re only cookies…”

She sniffed. “I know it’s silly… I just wanted everything to be perfect.”

“I’ve got you here, in my arms, in our home… Octavia will be here in a bit… everyone is safe, warm and happy… sounds pretty perfect to me.” He lifted her chin so her watery eyes met his own. “Huh? Perfect or what?”

She stood on tiptoes to capture his mouth with her own. “Pretty damn perfect,” she sighed.

He spied the icing that she’d got ready to decorate the treats, and dabbed a big blob on her nose.

Clarke gave a squeal before returning the favour with a swipe across his cheek.

By the time they were sat on the floor hopelessly trying to get their breath back, defeated by every renewed bought of laughter, they were finally silenced by the thought of how much fun they were going to have cleaning up. Clarke tasted even sweeter than normal that evening.


End file.
